Better Than Laughter
by PranksterPrefect
Summary: Fred Weasley takes his laid-back lifestyle seriously. Angelina Johnson couldn't be more different. On the Quidditch pitch and as friends they've always made a great team, but what happens when they both find their feelings and priorities shifting?
1. Rise and Shine

Here it is! The beginning of my very first Fanfiction! Excited applause and cheering (or just me, clapping excitedly in my bedroom, much to the disgust of my dog). For most of the story I'll be focusing on one of my favorite Weasleys, Fred, but the introduction in the first chapter or two will be coming from Mrs. Weasley because Fred's sleeping, making it rather difficult for him to introduce anything . Thanks for giving this story a shot and I really hope you enjoy it and even if you hate it, that you'll take the time to send me a review about what you didn't like and what I should fix. I have no shortage of ideas so I should be updating regularly with chapters full of Hogwarts, quidditch, twin mischief, and of course, Fred and Angelina chemistry and embarrassment. Enjoy!

Oh and before I forget to mention it, no matter how many candles I waste wishing, I am not nor will I ever be the wonderful J.K Rowling. Maybe now I can move on to wishing for something more realistic, like background music for my life, or a hippogriff ;). Read and review (gorgeous please)!

Better Than Laughter

Chapter One

Mrs. Weasley's War

Every first of September, Molly Weasley ran her household with all the skill and precision of an experienced Army general. She rose at exactly five in the morning, years of practice drilling an internal alarm clock into her brain. When it rang, sounding of the screeching of owls, the dropping of breakfast bowls and silverware, yells of "I can't find my school robes!", and the general chaos to ensue, Molly shoved her husband out of bed with a strength unexpected of a woman of her size, and determinedly got out of bed. Putting on her favorite robe, the one Ginny had made her for her birthday; Molly steeled herself for next six hours. Maybe Ginny seeing her wearing the robe would soften the blow of finally being the only Weasley not riding the Hogwarts Express. Molly only started in on waking the brood when she was sure Arthur was actually taking a shower, having thwarted his first attempt at fooling her by running the water and slumping against the bathtub, trying to get in a few extra minutes of sleep. Not that that was going to be possible once the mob was up and running (and screaming, and quite possibly crying).

Molly trudged up the three flights of stairs to her eldest's, at Hogwarts that was, bedroom. He'd finally gotten his own room after a heated campaign on the importance of having undisturbed time to devote to his studies and political networking. She didn't always understand her sons, but that didn't stop her from being proud of them. Rapping on the door, she wasn't surprised when it swung open to reveal Percy, hunched over his desk, feverishly writing a letter, and already dressed in his school robes. She waited a few seconds, fondly recalling the days when she and Arthur had spent summers writing love letters to each other, before she cleared her throat. Percy spun around, practically toppling out of his chair, his cheeks glowing and a ferocious scowl on his face.

"If you two come into my room one more time without my express permission, I swear to Merlin I'll-…" Percy flushed and trailed off upon seeing his mother standing in his doorway, one eyebrow raised dangerously, daring him to finish his sentence, both fists on her hips.

"S-sorry Mum, thought you were, well, you know." Percy stammered out, perfectly aware that his mother was fully capable of punishing him before he left for school, her mercy was key if he didn't plan on arriving at Platform 9 ¾ with dirt stains on his robes from weeding and de-gnoming. That was no way to impress Penelope.

Molly, knowing exactly who Percy had thought was bursting into his room, smiled sympathetically at her third and arguably most responsible son.

"Not at this hour I'm not, now get downstairs and eat breakfast. And Percy," Percy looked up at his mother fearfully, silently pleading for clemency, "If I ever hear that kind of language pass your lips again, I'll have them hexed shut. Oh and don't forget to feed Errol, poor bird." Already headed out the door, she surveyed Percy's luggage set, already neatly packed and organized in the corner, as it had been ever since the family's annual trip to Diagon Alley a week and a half ago. "Thank Merlin one member of this family is packed."

Molly padded lightly past her only daughter's room, hoping to put off the inevitable waterworks which would ensue, as they had for the past ten years, when Ginny woke up to remember that once again, her brothers were off to exciting Hogwarts without her, leaving her to yet another year with old Mum and Da. Molly remembered all too well the fuss her younger brothers, Gideon and Fabian, had put up when she had ridden away without them. Nevertheless, it would be Ginny's turn all too soon and that was a fact best not lingered on on this most sentimental of mornings. After all, it was youngest son Ron's first year at Hogwarts. He had spent the summer intermittently fretting over the possibility of breaking family tradition and being sorted into a house other than Gryffindor, and fending off Fred and George's delighted promise that he was, without a doubt, a Hufflepuff through and through. Opening Ron's bedroom door with great squeak and circumstance, Molly was fully prepared for exactly what she found. As expected, Ron lay in bed, eyes wide open, still dressed in his Chudley Cannons pajamas, staring up at the posters on his ceiling with a rather sick look on his face.

"Ron," she whispered as kindly as possible with the schedule still ticking away in her head, "it's time to get out of bed. You've barely packed at all and we need to leave in less than two hours."

Still not looking at her, Ron visibly paled, and shook his head.

"I've decided. I'm not going." He croaked out, "There's no way I'll be a Hufflepuff, Fred and George would never let me live it down."

"Nonsense," Molly clucked, privately seething at her twins for making this morning off mornings all the more difficult, "you'll do beautifully. The Sorting Hat knows best, and besides, there have been plenty of wonderfully successful wizards to come out of Hufflepuff." Just none that she could think off. This information didn't appear to cheer Ron at all, but it got him to mechanically sit up and climb out of bed, which was all Molly needed before she whirled off to make sure breakfast was underway while working up the energy to deal with the resurrection of Fred and George from their infuriatingly deep slumbers.

Finding Percy downstairs, his trunks orderly lined up near the door, calmly eating his porridge and reading the Daily Prophet, confirmed precisely why Percy had been chosen for prefect and in his opinion, was well on his way to becoming Head Boy. Ginny also sat at the table, glumly staring down at her marmalade and toast. Molly rubbed Ginny's shoulders comfortingly before deftly charming the tea to boil and setting the table for the rest of the family. Thank Merlin Bill and Charlie had graduated, leaving Molly to facilitate only seven Weasleys through Muggle London to King's Cross Station. When Arthur finally managed to groggily make it down the stairs to insensibly ladle porridge into several glasses and earnestly butter a slice of bacon, Molly reminded herself to choose her battles, and headed upstairs to face that which year after year, always posed the greatest challenge.


	2. Fred Makes Waves

Chapter Two

Fred Makes Waves

As Easter eggs and supermodels pelted the ship, Fred Danger Weasley reminded everyone why he was captain. From his place at the steering wheel, he shouted out orders to deckhands.

"Frying pans, now! Bring all necessary condiments to the bridge, all supermodels to my quarters!" Fred approvingly supervised as blondes, redheads, and brunettes, oh my, were systematically carried to his room to be dealt with in a most captainly fashion as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the wenches would have to wait (he could practically hear their impatient moans) because it appeared that they were being boarded by pirates and as the goblin appointed emperor of all land and sea, he simply couldn't stand for that.

Summoning his first mate, Fred was helped into his blue captain jacket, which supermodels of the past had complimented him on in a most heartfelt manner, before he strode to the starboard side of his vessel, taking pause only to wonder why it appeared that they were now sailing in space, surrounded by floating garden gnomes. Upon reaching the side of his ship, and deciding to try out the new surroundings on a trial only basis, Fred looked down just in time to see The Evil Captain McGonagall, scourge of the seven seas, climb aboard his ship. After sharing tea with his archenemies, and bravely battling through a mysterious throbbing in his left arm, Fred merrily helped his enemy's crew suit up for battle, waving at the infuriated Percy as he drifted by in the sea of garden gnomes. As he hobbled excitedly into battle (his whole left side seemed to have gone numb), Fred became quite convinced he was dying. Strangely, he couldn't remember being wounded, after all, pillows left emotional as well as physical scars, but a bright light far above him was persistently shining painfully into his skull and the battle itself was becoming fuzzy. Concerned, everyone gathered around him, and happily, the supermodels were back. From beyond the light, he could faintly hear what sounded like his mother calling for him to "Bake up". Fred knew this couldn't be right because to his knowledge, all the eggs had been sufficiently punished and turned into omelettes, and his own dear mother had been gone for many years, abducted by aliens from the planet Slytherin.

"Dirty snakes." he managed to curse up at the sky waving his un-numb fist around, to which the motherly voice only became shriller and he was able to detect a slight note of fury concealed within her dulcet tones. Now, he was able to make out a blurry image of his mother as he remembered her most fondly, with a crazed, desperate look about the eyes and a wand being angrily brandished about in her hand. He felt it a rather cruel joke for the Slytherin aliens to be playing at a time like this, when he was so perilously close to death and to never having the chance to properly deal with the supermodels.

"Eat her," suggested McGonagall, who at this point had transformed into a duck whose feathers rotated between primary colors every few seconds. This was terribly bad manners, but Fred felt pointing this out could possibly do damage to the working relationship they had established. Besides, he wasn't quite sure if the duck Pirate McGonagall was referring to the hallucination he was having of his mother, which was growing steadily clearer, or to the blonde who was covering his neck with sweet, Easter egg scented kisses.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" Molly Weasley screamed, her voice just beginning to go hoarse after an impressive showing of nearly thirty minutes at that decibel, "GET YOUR USELESS ARSES OFF THE FLOOR THIS INSTANT! IF YOU THINK YOU CAN SLEEP THORUGH ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT DAYS OF RON'S LIFE (Ron gulped audibly from his position by the door) THEN YOU, ARE, SADLY, MISTAKEN!" To emphasize each word, Molly cast a collection of painful, if nearly harmless, jinxes at her two son's sleeping forms. Both had fallen out of bed but neither showed the least intention of waking up, or acknowledging that they had heard her.

Exhausted, Molly bent over, breathing heavily. She wasn't beaten yet thought. Raising her wand and hoping to Merlin that what she was about to do didn't constitute child abuse, or at the very least that she'd have a jury full of mothers, Molly paused, giving the boys one more chance to rejoin the living before-

SPLASH! Ginny, standing barely four feet tall stood shakily holding an empty tub nearly half her size above a drenched and shivering Fred and George, a triumphant grin on her small face.

Molly blinked once, twice, and to her amazement watched Fred and George, in an eerie display of united movements, sit up, stretch and yawn hugely, before opening their eyes to smile up at her, heedless of their soaked state.

"Ah Mum, it is a relief to see you in good health." George said affectionately, shaking water out of his ears.

"And in such fine spirits," Added Fred, flexing the fingers and toes on his left side, trying to regain feeling after the series of paralysis jinxes his mother had cast on him as he slept.

When Molly had her rage back under control, she managed to usher a self-satisfied, giggling Ginny out of the room but not before updating her most irresponsible sons on the state of their current failings.

"Twenty minutes!" she shrieked at them, taking in the wreckage of their room over her shoulder. Currently, it was covered in the aftermath of any number of their practical jokes and stocked with boxes full of Merlin knew what which could only be supposed to contain harmful chemicals and a one-way ticket to expulsion from Hogwarts. "You have twenty minutes to pack, eat, and dress!" After stumbling over a haphazardly placed box, Molly swore and made her way out the door with whatever parental dignity she still possessed after being bested by her ten year old daughter. "And don't think your father and I will hesitate to drag you to Hogwarts by hand, wearing nothing but your knickers! That'll wipe off the smirks now, won't it? Move it!" She barked from her place somewhere in the stairwell, her voice easily carrying up to her son's soggy ears.

"Delightful dream, wasn't it George?" queried Fred, already mentally constructing the possibilities of magically recreating and enhancing dreams, a product which was surely marketable and in high-demand.

"First-class." Replied George, half hidden under his bed in pursuit of a pair of pants, pondering what the likelihood was of Professor McGonagall having converted to piracy over the summer break.

Please review! I'll send you positive thoughts and give you an air-hug!


	3. Getting a Grip

Look! It's me! Updating! I'm sorry that it took longer than expected but (insert excuse). Regardless, I have returned bearing a slightly longer chapter than the first two have been and a solemn promise to make the next one all about Fred (Scout's honor). Before I release you to read (if you didn't just skip over this boring part already), I would like to plead, beg, and grovel for reviews. I have one so far and when I saw that someone ACTUALLY READ THIS then took the time to review, I literally squealed with delight and bounced up and down. Not even kidding. Thanks also to those who Favorited my story and if you like it (or hate it, or just plain couldn't care less), please tell me ways to improve (or why you just plain couldn't care less, I suppose). Oh, and I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors you may have found in previous chapters, apparently my technical impairment extends to Fanfiction and I just don't know how to fix said errors. Sorry! Now read, darn you! (As long as you first understand that I'm not J.K Rowling and acknowledge that that was a most respectful 'darn you!') Green light!

Chapter Three

Getting a Grip

Angelina wondered to herself, while dodging yet another low hanging branch only to receive a mouthful of leaves a split-second later, what the point of her being on time was if her entire family planned on teaming up annually to make her very nearly late. As it had for the past three years, the sun rose on September first greeted with a cloudy English sky, groaning children- both Muggle and magical- that had no choice but to abandon summer for a new school term, and herself, awake, washed, and ready to leave immediately for King's Cross Station. And once again, the sun had made its way halfway across the sky before anyone could be bothered to drive her there. Choking slightly on a bug, Angelina could only cling nervously to her brother's back as he groggily navigated the London streets on his motorbike. It was a shame she wasn't of age, how easy it would have been to simply apparate instead of waiting for one of her non-wizard family members to take her. It was also too bad that they all had such water-tight excuses for being unavailable. Marcus, her second-oldest brother, had left for his second year of college in America weeks ago while both of her parents had their hands full with their newly born twins, Jessica and Andrew.

Now however Angelina wasn't so sure that she wouldn't rather be late to school than risk a ride on the back of Mitch's bike, after all, her Quidditch steeled nerves could only take so much. As Mitch drifted out of his lane for the third time in as many minutes, Angelina yelped and leaned to the left, narrowly avoiding being clipped by a cab driver who responded by gleefully shouting curses their way, scandalizing the buttoned up couple in his back seat. Mitch was working as a medical intern at St. Mary's hospital downtown, and the hours he worked meant that the very fact he was conscious before eleven was to be applauded. Not that this could be considered truly conscious by any stretch of the imagination Angelina had to admit as his delayed reflexes nearly sent them both down to the Tube instead of around the corner like intended. This forced Angelina to let out a most un-Gryffindor like squeal and to cling tighter to Mitch, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, silently chanting to herself "Next year a cab, next year a cab…" This continued until she felt the bike slide to an unsteady stop, with any luck, outside of King's Cross.

The only reason she hadn't gone on her own this year was because she still clearly remembered the morning she left for her first year, her entire family waving her off, late, but nonetheless present. Luckily, whatever sentimental hope she had held thus far in her heart died a quick death as Mitch nearly fell asleep in her arms when she grabbed him for a hug before he mumbled a mixture of song lyrics and medical terms at her and setting his sleep-heavy eyes back on the road, proceeded to gently drive into a No Parking sign. After seeing him semi-safely out of her sight, Angelina docilely turned around, glad to be back on solid ground, then, upon seeing the clock, recalled tradition and broke into a sprint. Feeling the cool wooden handle of her wand against her side, tucked into her waistband, Angelina greeted the mid-day sun just as she had every other year, by sliding through the barrier with seconds to spare.

After a few long, steadying breaths, hunched over panting Angelina did her best to transform herself into the new calm, collected, and confident Angelina, the one who didn't accidentally knock over overwhelmed first years or mentally panic over the fact that she wasn't carrying her trunk. After reminding herself that Katie was bringing her trunk and returning her heart rate to its normal rhythm, Angelina just managed to side-step a herd of freshmen, satisfied that at least one part of her cool and collected veneer was working out. Finally coming into view of the Hogwarts Express, Angelina grinned broadly. It was one of her favorite sights, ranking up with fireworks, the Quidditch pitch before a game, and the first snow of winter. The train itself was sleek and had a magical extension enchantment on it, but it managed to easily maintain a sort of old-fashioned elegance, the white smoke rising from it and its scarlet body offering a soft, traditional charm.

Headed down the platform en route to Katie and hopefully, her own trunk, Angelina spotted a crowd sporting hair colored nearly as brightly as the train. Angelina could always count on the Weasleys to be one step short of on time as well, in fact, that was exactly how she'd originally become familiar with the family, and more specifically, the twins.

_Angelina had just finished shouting her final goodbyes to her family when her attention was drawn away from the waving, smiling Johnsons by a group of red-heads bursting one after another onto the platform. It wasn't difficult for Angelina to realize that they were related; judging by the way the two eldest immediately commenced ignoring their younger brothers and strode off to find their own friends. Her own two brothers had done just that to her more times than she could count. One of the eldest, the rather athletic looking one, not the one lugging a trunk laden down with books, strapped to the trunk's top with what looked like a belt, passed under her compartment's window as he made his way to board, and from her seat on the train, Angelina was struck by how handsome he was, making scruffy and disheveled appear to be desirable traits. The next brother seemed relieved to escape his younger brothers, and heatedly reached for his wand when he realized that they had used some spell or another to make his hair flash from red to blue and back again continually. He hastily stuck it back in his pocket and hurried off when a rather short, plump woman appeared on the platform with a loud crack and a venomous look on her face. Angelina had never seen anyone apparate, nor had her family, so they all stared in awe for a time at the woman who had presumably come from mid-air. That ought to make Mitch happy, she could remember thinking. Angelina had always been the most responsible of the three siblings and a little weirdness was exactly what the doctor-to-be had prescribed for his younger sister. Hogwarts had already proved itself more than capable of providing such weirdness and she hadn't even arrived yet. The family's father soon appeared as well, a child on both of his sides, gripping his hands and even from a distance, looking queasy. The boy didn't look older than seven or eight and he gazed around, his eyes gleaming even as he tried to appear disinterested. The girl was younger and took one look at her surroundings, another at her two brothers standing nearby, then promptly burst into tears. Both boys exchanged comical panicked looks before rushing to comfort her. Angelina found herself touched by the brothers' act of kindness, especially when she knew how easy it was for an elder brother to ignore situations exactly like the one at hand. One of the girl's brothers was offering her a treat and the other appeared to be singing softly into her ear, enticing a small smile from her when the train whistle sounded. The parents, who had been preoccupied in calling out to their older sons, embarrassing them with reminders to study hard and, true to parental form, change their underwear, shoved their youngest sons off, instructing them to follow their brothers' example and to not make trouble. As the boys, with identical grins on their faces, rushed to climb aboard the train, Angelina realized that they were twins, and neither seemed at all interested in heeding the advice their harassed-looking mother was shouting at them. The train began moving as soon as they stepped on and Angelina smiled at her family, hoping to assure both them and herself that everything was going to be just fine. As the train sped up, Angelina heard the red-headed woman call out, "Fred! George! Behave!" Angelina couldn't see if they were acting in a way that warranted her warning, but she did hear them call back to her, sounding incredibly offended, "It's George!" and "I'm Fred, honestly woman!"_

Angelina also remembered, with slightly less clarity, how she had meet Alicia Spinnet, another girl in her year, and Lee Jordan aboard the train that morning. She hadn't truly come into contact with the twins until she and the rest of the first years boarded the boats under Hagrid's, the Hogwarts grounds and game keeper, close watch. That was an experience to remember as well for many reasons, not the least of which being that she and Fred had both climbed out of their boat at the other end of the lake fresh from a fight, and soon to become fast friends.

Presently, the youngest, Ginny was her name, stood slightly apart from the rest of her family, a dark scowl on her visage. Angelina caught her eye and offered a sympathetic expression, followed quickly by a silly face. Ginny, who'd always held Angelina as one of her personal favorites of her brother's friends, giggled and stuck out her own tongue. George, who'd been standing protectively nearby glanced up from concernedly assessing his sister while rummaging in his pockets, likely for a present of some kind to cheer her, and caught sight of Angelina several yards down the platform, her cheeks poofed out and her eyes crossed. He smiled gratefully and Angelina barely bothered to grapple for composure. She had been good friends with Fred and George since first year and had learned long ago that showing any form of embarrassment around them would only unleash any number of practical jokes and magical pranks upon oneself. She smiled back and George made as if to walk over but quickly remembered to grab Fred. Angelina watched him first politely nudge Fred, and then poke him sharply in the ribs (the rest of the family seemed caught up in some controversy involving a snarling Mrs. Weasley, an innocent-faced Fred, and Percy, who looked like any sudden movement or noise would send him into hysterics.) She didn't get to see if George managed to procure his brother's attention because it was then that Hurricane Katie hit. Always a positive force of nature, the Katie storm bore suffocating hugs, excited chatter, and giggles better suited to prattling first years than the mature and refined second and third years that they now were.

"Love the windswept look, Ang!"Commented Katie, as the two climbed arm and arm onto the train. Angelina made sure to send a wave and smile to Ginny, who now seemed to have developed an interest in the argument, before she disappeared onboard and rolled her eyes at her best friend. Katie knew perfectly well that 'the windswept look' wasn't by design or purpose. Although she had always been fascinated by Angelina's rather large Muggle family, Katie was yet to take up her skeptical friend's offer to give her a ride to King's Cross, preferring instead to side-along-apparate with one of her parents. Angelina couldn't even pretend to be offended- last year she had arrived at Platform 9 ¾ with mud splattered across her skirt and her hair full of sticks. That had also been the day on which she'd forever sworn off her brother's so-called 'shortcuts.'

Review please! I don't even mind if it's just to tell me to start matching my socks or to preach on the evils of reality television and multi-colored fonts. (Though I would very much appreciate story comments, just sayin' :)


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